


Cassandra

by whiteduck6



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Coming Out, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, autistic 10k, bi 10k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteduck6/pseuds/whiteduck6
Summary: His name is Connor, and he's twenty, and 10k can barely breathe around him.10k comes out to Cassandra.





	Cassandra

**Author's Note:**

> So, for some reference in this fic -- I think I wrote 10k's kill count a little low for how old he should be, but this is an AU so it should be fine. He's between 18-20 I imagine, there isn't much of an age gap between him and Connor.
> 
> I guess this is after Mac died? Like I said, this is an AU, so I'm basically going with whatever's convenient, haha. I needed Addy and Cassandra to be together, so . . . Mac is dead I guess?
> 
> Please enjoy!

The first time 10k thinks about it is one evening after a supply run.

Himself and Cassandra sneaked into a local grocery store for some canned goods, and as soon as they had gotten back Cassandra had pressed a hard kiss to Addy’s mouth and rested her forehead against the other woman’s, staring at her with an intensity that made 10k unable to look at either of them.

_It’s none of their business,_ he tells himself, _it’s fine. It’ll probably never come up._

That night, 10k watches the casual intimacy between the two women and wonders how they do it, and if it could be that easy for him. 

—

He tosses and turns that night, internally debating, but decides to not say anything and eventually falls asleep. He’s awoken the next morning by zees pounding on the door, and he drags himself up and bails out the window after the others, and his argument with himself gets left behind for a few days.

He reconsiders when they stop at some sort of abandoned bar and find another survivor holed up inside. His name is Connor, and he’s twenty, and 10k can barely breathe around him. 

Roberta sets up shop by the door while Cassandra sets about mixing drinks for everyone with the slim pickings behind the counter. Doc joins her.

“I only know how to make one drink,” Doc says as he examines the bottles.

“What is it?” Cassandra asks. 

“Moonshine,” Doc grins.

10k wants to ask if he means from scratch, or if that’s some cocktail he never learned the name of, but he doesn’t really want to look that naive in front of Connor, so he keeps his mouth shut and tries to keep his hands still as he does his routine maintenance on his gun. 

“That’s pretty cool,” Connor says, crouching next to 10k on the floor. “You any good?”

“Kinda,” 10k mutters. 

“His kill-count’s 2,117!” Addy shouts helpfully from the bar, where everyone seems to have gathered. 

“Damn,” Connor says, raising his eyebrows a little. “That all zees?”

“Yep,” 10k says, then realizes it sounds like he’s brushing Connor off. “Uh, yeah. I only track zombie kills.”

“Impressive that you’ve kept count all this time. How long you been doing that?”

“Few years,” 10k says, really not wanting the subject to move any further along its current train. “W-what about you? What do you, um, what do you use?”

Connor shrugs. “Whatever’s around. Oh, but this one time, I actually found a compound bow and about a dozen arrows. That was pretty fun. The arrows all broke eventually, though, and the bow’s not much use without ‘em.”

“They’re not that hard to make, in theory,” 10k says, warming up to the conversation a little. He’s still policing himself very carefully to make sure he doesn’t tip over the edge into infodumping. “It’s adhesive, feathers, and a stick, right?”

“At the time, I, uh, was in the city,” Connor rubs the back of his neck a little sheepishly and 10k tries not to stare at his face too much while he’s looking away. “There weren’t really any trees. Or feathers. And besides, how do you catch the bird for the feathers in the first place?”

“Slingshot,” 10k says, going over his bullets. “Gun. A well-aimed rock.”

“Maybe get two birds with a rock,” Connor laughs. 

10k gets it, but it takes him just a half-second too long and that familiar expression of _You’re kinda weird_ flickers over Connor’s face. He purses his lips and tries to ignore the crestfallen feeling in the pit of his chest. 

“Uh, you probably don’t want to, um, hang out with me any more, so . . .” 10k says, trying desperately to put the conversation out of its misery before it can suffer any longer.

“Nah, man,” Connor says, “You’re cool. I mean, as long as I’m not making you . . .”

“No, no!” 10k says, a little too quickly. He feels his face get hot and he looks away, pulling his scarf up a little. “No, you’re fine, but I’m kinda boring. So I’ve been told.”

“What? By who?” Connor says, smiling a little. “Listen. Why don’t we go out — there’s some trees out there — and you can show me how to make arrows? I get the feeling that could be pretty useful.”

“If you’re sure,” 10k says, reassembling his gun. 

“Hell yeah,” Connor says, holding his hand out as he stands up. 10k grabs it and hauls himself to his feet. Connor’s hand is warm and dry and he doesn’t let go of 10k’s as they leave the building. 

“You really want twigs for this,” 10k mutters after quickly checking to make sure no zombies would sneak up on them. “Really thin, and as straight as possible, but you can always carve out the bendy parts.” He cracks a branch off a nearby maple tree.

“No bendier than this,” he says, holding it out for Connor to look at. His chest tightens a little as Connor examines it.

“Alrighty,” Connor says, grabbing a branch for himself. “I assume I should take the skin off?”

“Yeah, it just makes it smoother and more aerodynamic,” 10k says, pulling out one of his smaller knives and going to work. It takes him a few minutes, but he’s soon got a bare branch with less bends and knots than it started with. Connor follows closely behind his every action, and soon he’s ready for the next step. 

“You carve the end to a point . . .” 10k says, quickly sharpening his makeshift arrow on one end. “Um, I don’t actually have any feathers for this next part, but you basically want to attach them with whatever adhesive you have — Krazy glue, tree sap, you could probably tie them on if you wanted, but it might be a little looser. Then you burn the edges of the feathers so they melt together and stay smooth.”

“Where did you learn all that?” Connor asks. 

“My pa taught me,” 10k says, hoping Connor won’t delve further into this conversation.

“You’re crazy talented,” Connor says, stepping a little closer to 10k. It would normally make him uncomfortable to be so close to someone else, especially someone he didn’t really know, but the only thing he can feel right now is his heart trying to pound out of his chest. 

“If you come with us,” 10k says, his eyes flicking between Connor’s right eyebrow and his lips, “I can teach you more.”

Connor takes another step, and their chests are almost touching now, and Connor rests his hand on 10k’s hip. “I’d be into that.”

Connor kisses him softly, and 10k leans into it. 

They stay outside on the windowless side of the bar for a while until the door opens and 10k hears Addy speaking with a bit of a slur. 

“10k!” She calls, “we need you to keep score!”

10k jerks away from Connor so hard he nearly slams his head against the brick wall, then looks at Connor, expecting a, “They don’t know?”

“It’s fine,” Connor says, stroking his fingers along 10k’s palm. “We should be getting back inside anyway. It’s late.”

10k pecks him on the lips one more time, then hurries inside. The others are playing beer pong, and as the only one of them under twenty-one, 10k has been deemed scorekeeper while the rest of them get too drunk to properly form sentences.

Connor sits beside him as he scratches tallies into the floor, the outside edges of their hands pressed together. 

It’s saccharine. 

It’s blissful.

—

They end up staying the next day, because everyone with the exception of Murphy is incredibly hungover. 10k shows Connor how to make a fish trap, and they make out some more in the empty strip club next door. 

They’re out nearly all day.

That evening, after everyone else has gone to sleep, when Roberta has her back turned, Connor laces their hands together and kisses the back of 10k’s hand. 10k doesn’t know when the last time he felt such a soft touch was.

The next morning, 10k wakes up to everyone packing up their things, ready to go.

“Do you want to come with us?” 10k says. It would suck if he had to let Connor go now. 

“Yeah,” Connor says, very carefully hiding any affection from his face and voice as he addresses the group, but mostly 10k. “You guys seem cool. I’ve always wanted to go to California.”

“Great, another angsty teenager,” Murphy grumbles as he climbs into the truck. “Make sure to keep your Evanescence down.”

“As long as you don’t play Cotton Eye Joe too loud,” Connor responds, whip-fast.

Murphy scoffs and presses a spread hand to his chest. “How _dare_ you even _suggest_ I listen to country music that isn’t Country Roads, the only good country song ever written.”

Connor laughs and 10k feels a grin tug at the corners of his lips. Roberta and Doc are in the front seat, Murphy, Cassandra, and Addy are in the back, and he and Connor are in the bed. 

The road passes a lot quicker when Connor’s providing commentary in his ear, holding his hand and stroking his fingers with his calloused thumb. 

“Damn, that one looks like it’s been through hell,” Connor says softly at one point, pointing at a zee that looks like someone tried to garrotte its legs off. It has deep gauges to the bone just above its knee. 

“I bet you can’t get that one,” he says a while later, gesturing at a zombie maybe two hundred yards away. 10k looks at him and he’s smirking playfully, so 10k grins, steadies his gun on the edge of the truck, and blows its head off.

“2,118, right?” Connor says.

“Yeah,” 10k breathes, and he wants to kiss Connor again, but he can see the others out of the corner of his eye, so he just squeezes his hand.

“You know, I can read palms,” Connor says a few hours later, when they’ve stopped for gas. “My grandma taught me — she was kind of a hippie. Anyway, give me your hand.”

Connor has had 10k’s hand in his own for a while now, so he turns it over and shucks off 10k’s glove. He traces his fingers lightly across the lines and callouses of 10k’s hand for a few moments, staring at his skin so intensely it makes 10k’s face heat up.

“You’re going to live a long life,” he finally says, tracing a line. “You’re going to settle down as an adult. You’re going to get married.”

“That’s bold,” 10k laughs, a little weakly.

“I never said you would get married to _me,_ ” Connor smirks. He glances around and pecks 10k on the lips quickly, taking both 10k’s hands in his and sitting so close that their knees are almost touching. 

“Do you ever think about telling them?” Connor asks once everyone’s safely back in the car. “I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” 10k shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s none of their business.”

“Okay,” Connor says. He drops it, and later that night 10k points out constellations his pa taught him to Connor. They sleep side by side in the truck bed while Cassandra crouches on the roof of the truck, keeping watch. 

10k sleeps heavily for the first time in years.

—

They manage to keep their private affairs secret for a couple weeks. Cassandra gives him some strange looks sometimes, but that’s okay. She’s a lesbian, and she’s probably 10k’s closest friend on the team, aside from Doc. If she’s thinking something, she’ll keep it to herself.

It’s not until 10k comes back from a nearby river, several fish tied together and slung over his shoulder, that someone else seems to notice.

He hands one to Connor, and Connor smiles and thanks him, and Murphy makes a gagging noise.

“God, you two are sickening,” he drawls, “freakin’ saps.”

10k feels the blood drain from his face so fast he’s surprised he doesn’t pass out. He pulls his hand away from Connor’s and sets the rest of the fish down on a relatively clean rock. 

“I think I saw something out there,” he says quietly, “I’m gonna go check it out.”

“You need backup?” Roberta says. She’s sharpening her machete by the fire. 

“No, I’m good,” 10k says, and hurries off before anyone else can say anything. 

He spends the next hour in the woods, in a tree, beating the beginnings of a panic attack into submission.

When he’s got himself under control enough to act semi-normal around the others, he heads back. It’s gotten dark, and their fire stands out through the trees. 10k sort of lingers a few feet behind everyone until Addy shifts over a little and gestures next to her.

“You don’t have to just lurk,” she says, laying her head on Cassandra’s shoulder. 

10k hesitantly sits next to her. He doesn’t meet Connor’s eyes. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Addy asks.

“I ate out there,” he says. He didn’t, but he still feels the lingering nausea of low-grade anxiety. 

Murphy doesn’t say anything else about him and Connor, and no one else does either. 10k tries to sleep in the truck bed, next to Connor, but he can’t seem to fall asleep for the life of him. 

“Are you okay?” Connor asks quietly, extending a hand outside of his sleeping bag but not touching 10k with it. He lays it flat on the ribbed metal of the truck bed, letting 10k take the initiative.

“Yeah, sorry,” 10k murmurs, pressing the outer side of his hand to Connor’s. Connor loops their pinky fingers together. “I was just a little freaked out.”

“Because of Murphy?” Connor asks.

“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t think—I don’t think he means anything by it, but—“

“No, no, I get it,” Connor shifts a little closer to 10k. “Hey, listen, we don’t have to say anything until you’re ready. I get it. But, listen — anxiety’s a bitch. If you get anxious again, don’t . . . don’t run off like that. I’ll help you. We’ll work it out together, okay?”

“Okay,” 10k says, moving a little closer until he can shift his leg a few inches and press it against Connor’s.

A smile twitches against Connor’s lips and he drapes an arm around 10k, pulling him a little closer. 

The soft warmth of Connor’s body, even through two sleeping bags, lulls 10k to sleep in minutes.

—

10k wakes up with his back to Connor’s chest, Connor’s arm still wrapped around him. The heavy weight on him is so comforting 10k almost goes back to sleep, but he jolts awake when he sees a blurry figure out of the corner of his eye.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, his heart in his mouth. He glances up again and sees Addy, her arms folded over the edge of the truck, her zee whacker in one hand.

“Nice,” she grins, tossing him a thumbs-up as she walks away. 10k flushes and avoids her eyes as he puts away his sleeping bag.

Connor sleeps for a few more minutes, then sort of shuffles his way into consciousness. He burrows into his sleeping bag a bit before he seems to realize where he is, and he jolts awake, his hand coming to rest on his pistol.

“Hey, you’re okay,” 10k says, laying a hand on Connor’s shoulder. Connor sweeps his hair back from his head and breathes heavily for a few moments before composing himself.

“Sorry,” Connor mutters. “Where are we going today?” 

“There’s an old cannery a few hours away,” Roberta says as she braids her hair down her left shoulder. “I was thinking we could check it out, maybe see if there’s anything left.”

“Sounds good,” Connor says, his eyes flicking to 10k with the barest hint of a grin on his lips. 

“Hey, 10k, come over here,” Doc says, gesturing for 10k to follow him. 10k shrugs and hops out of the truck bed, following him just into the tree line.

“Is there . . . somethin’ I should know about between you and that kid?” He asks, looking about as uncomfortable as 10k feels. He crosses his arms, then lays his hands on his hips, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“No,” 10k says, not looking anywhere near Doc. “No, nothing’s going on.”

“You can come to me, hey?” Doc says. “I, uh, I won’t claim to be the most knowledgeable about . . . about this, but . . .”

“Nothing’s going on,” 10k says, “but, uh, I think I heard Roberta asking me for help, so . . .”

“Yeah, yeah,” Doc says, waving him off as he shoves a hand in his back pocket. “Go ahead, kid.”

10k tries not to run as he hurries back to the truck, making himself busy until they have to go.

—

“What was that, earlier?” Connor asks when the roar of the motor is loud enough to cover their hushed voices. “Doc, right?”

“Yeah, he, uh . . . he thinks there’s something going on between us.”

“Well, there is.” Connor smirks. 

“Yeah, but, I mean, I didn’t think he was that perceptive.”

“Are you okay?” Connor asks, the smirk falling from his face as he takes 10k’s hand. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” 10k says, scrubbing a hand across his face. “If there’s anyone I can trust on this team, it’s Doc. But it was . . . unsettling.”

“Do you want to tell him?”

“No. Not yet.” 10k says, leaning against Connor’s shoulder. “I will, probably. But not yet.”

“Okay,” Connor says, tipping his head against 10k’s. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there with you.”

“I know.”

Connor cups 10k’s cheekbone with his hand, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

They stay quiet for a while, and 10k ponders how he’s going to tell the others.

—

He thinks Cassandra would be the safest bet, considering that she and Addy have been dating for quite a while now. 

The rest of the day, he feels so anxious he can barely talk. He picks at his dinner and waits until the last possible moment until he tells her.

She’s on watch, sitting cross-legged on top of the truck, and 10k waits until he’s certain everyone else is asleep before slipping out of his sleeping bag and on top of the truck bed. 

“10k,” Cassandra whispers, moving over a little so 10k can sit next to her. “You okay?”

“How’d you know it was me?” He avoids the subject a little while more.

“I could hear you. What’s up?”

10k breathes very slowly through his nose and clenches his fists so hard they hurt.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Cassandra says, shifting so that she’s facing him. She lays her hands over his, squeezing gently. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m not gay,” he blurts.

Cassandra raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“But, uh . . .”

Cassandra keeps looking at him, but 10k stops looking at her face and instead looks over her shoulder, into the distance. He swallows dryly and stares at a zombie in the distance as he forces the words out through his teeth.

“But there is something going on with Connor and I.”

Cassandra lets out a breath and pulls him close to her, holding him so tight it hurts his shoulders and ribs a little. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for trusting me.”

“Who else would I tell?” 10k mumbles. He’s still got some adrenaline in his system, but it’s starting to leak out his pores now. 

“Addy,” she says, still holding him. He’s glad — he’s so jittery right now he might have to go out and kill a few zees to calm down enough to get to sleep, but Cassandra is an anchor, she’s holding him down and keeping him grounded.

“Doc,” she says, “for a start. But, ultimately, it’s your business.”

“Would you back me up?” He asks, finally pulling away from her. He has to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Of course,” Cassandra says, “you’re my friend, 10k. But you shouldn’t be afraid to ask Connor for support, too. The three of us? We’re all in the same boat on this one.”

“I know,” 10k says, “I just . . . I needed to make sure . . .”

“Listen,” Cassandra says, “I don’t think anyone’s going to have an issue with it. Not even Murphy. He’s an asshole, but have you heard how he talks about Sean Connery as James Bond? That guy’s not straight.”

10k breathes out a sharp, panicky little laugh. “I know, _rationally,_ that nothing will happen, but . . .”

“Anxiety’s a bitch,” Cassandra said. “But anxiety’s just that. A little bitch. It’s lying to you. And, listen, I have a hell of a lot more loyalty to you and Addy than I do to Murphy and this mission. And I know Addy will be fine with it. So if it goes to shit . . . we can ditch. You, Addy, Doc, Connor, and I. Let Roberta deal with Murphy on her own. We can make it. I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks,” he says, his eyes prickling with tears. He scrubs at them with the back of his hand, and Cassandra just pulls him in for a hug again.

“I should go to sleep,” he says wetly.

“Goodnight,” Cassandra says, “keep in mind what I said, okay? You can talk to me or Addy anytime.”

“I know,” 10k says, sliding back down the rear window of the car and wiggling into his sleeping bag. 

He shifts a little closer to Connor, and Connor wraps an arm around him. 10k smiles a little as he relaxes into the warm weight of his arm. 

He thinks about telling the others.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, and as always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated! This is my first time using an OC -- what did you think of it? I really wanted to explore 10k's sexuality (let's be real here, no one in this show is straight) and there isn't really anyone in the show I ship him with? 
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for reading!


End file.
